


ROADWAYS INSIDE MY HEAD

by NOT_TOWA_WAKASA



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, F/M, Hand Jobs, Trans Female Character, Virtual Reality, cinematic parallels with the 'im so fucked up' moment from evangelion but with someone else's cum, goofy smut and angsty goofs, implied nocturnal emmissions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 08:03:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17341658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NOT_TOWA_WAKASA/pseuds/NOT_TOWA_WAKASA
Summary: It was ridiculous that a program that had materialized everything in the room from nothing would have tea brought in by hand, and just as ridiculous was an asset of that program claiming that doing so brought it personal pleasure.





	ROADWAYS INSIDE MY HEAD

 

  
The small room is well furnished, with the leather couch Byakuya sits on pleasantly smooth under the glide of his hand. With the lighting dimmed to his exact preference, a soft light reflects cool tones on the room's deep browns and ivory whites. He’s curious about the detail beyond the wide window spanning the wall to the far side of the room, but he’s opted against inspecting it, not wanting to risk spoiling the illusion.

No single part of the room was specified by him, but it satisfies his tastes nicely. It was far beyond the apartment he’d grown used to, nearing the sort of decor he’d taken for granted in his youth. If he could make one addition, it would be tea.

“Rose hip, darling?” a voice coos behind him, accompanied by a familiar aroma.

Byakuya turns. Touko stands with a tray holding porcelain cups and a faintly steaming tea pot, her head slightly bowed and eyes fondly and expectantly trained on him. Her hair is tied into a single thick braid and she wears her usual suit, though lacking the wrinkles he’d come to expect at work.

“Don’t do that,” Byakuya tells her.

Touko looks down. “B-but… you wanted tea…”

Maybe, but he hadn’t asked for her to wait on him. He wasn’t yet familiar with how the machine worked in this mode. “That doesn’t mean _you_ need to bring it. This isn’t why you’re here.”

Touko’s lips tighten into a scrunched line, disappointed, but she meets his eyes somewhat defiantly. “But… it makes me happy to do things for you, Byakuya-sama.”

This exchange was ridiculous in every way Byakuya could count; it was ridiculous that a program that materialized everything in this room from nothing would have tea brought in by hand, and it was ridiculous that an asset of that program would claim that doing so brought it personal pleasure. Also ridiculous was that the response was so thoroughly believable. Most ridiculous to Byakuya is that this exchange is occurring at all.

In the end, Touko pours him tea. It tastes fine, and she gleams satisfaction before sitting down next to him. Her pallid skin glows in the room’s soft lighting, eyes framed by long lashes and sickly dark rings. When Byakuya realizes that he’s staring, he thinks to turn away, but there’s no reason for it. There’s no one to think poorly of him or to get the wrong impression. If he’s ashamed, it is his own shame and no one else’s.

“Byakuya-sama?”

“Hm.”

Her thin fingers crawl on his thigh. He allows it.

“Why are you here?”

“I wanted to talk.”

She flushes. “With… me?” She appears shy, but just as giddy and no less bold.

It’s for his own sake, obviously. Nothing he tells her here will leave this fabricated room, let alone reach her real-world counterpart.

“Ah, I don’t mind if you vent! Just listening to the sound of your voice is enough…”

Byakuya flinches. “Don’t read my thoughts.”

“I’m sorry!” She hides her mouth with her hand. “I’ll try not to,” she says, when Byakuya knows she means _pretend not to_. He looks away and leans into the cushion.

Her hand is still on his thigh.

“This is difficult for me, but it shouldn’t be,” he starts, “I’ve never had trouble articulating my thoughts.”

Touko looks sympathetic. The hand on his thigh begins to stroke.

“I suppose I don’t know what my thoughts are. Not in totality, what they mean when put together and looked at from a distance. Just… little things.”

He’s not even looking at her, but somehow he knows that she nods.

“I… I think it’s fine to enjoy the little things.” Touko leans closer until her knee is pressing into his leg. “Th-that’s what I’ve been doing, since I was young… focus on the big things, enjoy the little things.”

Byakuya has had Touko close to him many times before, but this is one scenario he’s not sure how to navigate. “It’s different,” he swallows, “I think you might be a larger issue.”

She grins, drawing circles with her finger. “Has my diet been working…?”

He ignores the comment, though he can’t say the same for the touch. Attempting to convey his feelings makes him feel small, vulnerable, even in a place like this with a person who isn’t really there. Every thought he’s gathered in his head becomes trivial the moment he means to vocalize it. It’s not her that’s big, but she is part of it. A contributing factor, to whatever _it_ is. Even in his thoughts he can’t name it.

Soon, the weight of Touko’s head is on his shoulder, her eyes half-lidded, and her hand draws further up his thigh. Byakuya shivers.

“Byakuya-sama,” she whispers, almost a breath, but Byakuya can hear her perfectly. “Just being here with you… alone, like this, makes me happy.”

His eyes close. _I enjoy it too_. More than he’s ready for.

Warm fingers press softly on his cheek, nudging him to face her. He does, and looking at her face, he realizes he’s never seen her eyes this closely before. The silent, expectant yearning in them takes hold of him, and he dips down and presses his lips against hers. He’s never been close to her in this way, either, but he’s thought about it.

She gasps sweetly into his mouth, and he places a hand on the back of her head to pull her in. Fingers effortlessly undo his trousers before inching towards his cock, stopping just when he feels her nails graze the base. The anticipation is enough to make him twitch. He compensates by trying to kiss her harder, or faster, or more, but he’s never done this with anyone before, and he succeeds only in following her lead.

He came here to talk, but in retrospect, he knows this exercise was pointless. If he wanted to, he could stop the program now, put an end to the simulation, realize again that he was mistaken and push away his intrusive thoughts until they cease. As the possibility crosses his mind, Touko pulls his cock out of his thong and begins to stroke. He groans into her lips.

“Byakuya-sama,” she whispers, parting. “I love you, Byakuya-sama, so much…” She doesn’t stop pumping, getting faster. Her face is so close to his that he’s forced to meet her eyes, see his own expression reflected in violet slate.

“I know,” he rasps. _I know. I know._

She sighs against his cheek, her breath hot and wet. Everything is hot, his face burns as if he’s being boiled alive and his body winds tight like a spring. In an instant, the tension snaps, and is released into her fist.

His vision goes white and his mind goes numb from the pleasure. There are no words on his part, only gasps, which Touko happily takes against her lips. At some point later, Touko tells him that the evidence needs to be taken care of and she eats his cum, something which Byakuya also has no words for, but when the pod opens and he wakes up, the evidence is still there.

 

* * *

 

 

Mechanical tombs with trailing veins of steel and copper spiral around around the thrumming, faintly glowing heart of the room. Only dim screens and signifier lights could be made out in the darkness, and every step taken was met with trays and thick chords. With so much left to inference, the super computer’s LED screen becomes a massive, overseering eye, the scrolling code on its face the vague shape of a pupil tracking a trespasser’s every move.

After a few moments of searching, Touko finds the light switch. The room illuminates. It’s actually just a bunch of computers and pods.

The Neo-World Program was never intended to be used in this way, but as far as Touko knew, there were no rules against it. When she first found out about the computer, the potential for personal use had immediately crossed her mind, but months have passed since then.

She wasn’t sure that this was something that was okay to do. Not in the regulatory sense or in breaking protocol, but that it might cross an boundary. A line between fantasy that she kept to herself and something material, disrespectful.

It bothering her, though, wasn’t enough. At her core, Touko is a selfish person.

Inside the confines of the pod and past a barrier of drowsy fog is a room slightly larger than the room that houses it. There are walls lined tall with books, a floor bearing an ornately patterned rug, all dimly lit, though this time Touko can find no light switch. What light does exist in the room is warm, yellow at the edge of its reach and orange near its center, emitting from from a brick hole on the wall far-side from the entrance, which casts a chair facing it in dark silhouette.

Touko brings a hand to her chest. The room is silent, save for the crackling of fire, until she hears the familiar slipping of paper.

She calls out. “H… hello?”

“I’m aware you’re here,” the seat replies. Touko’s heart leaps. “You’re not intruding,” it adds.

The voice is starkly familiar. Everything seems so real. “… Byakuya-sama?” She doesn’t have to say his name to be sure, but it slips out anyway.

A lull. Then, “Approach. I’d rather have you where I can see you.”

She does as he says, stepping forward. The silhouette from which the voice originated turns into a sharply lit leather seat. A book comes into view, held open by a thumb on its spine, and then a hand, and then an arm which Touko’s eyes follow to a suited chest. The eyes on the face above it are trained on the book, which Touko doesn’t think to check the contents of, until they eventually flicker towards her.

They are a sharp blue, made pink by the fire. On his mouth is a faint smirk. Touko’s heart rocks in her chest. It was Byakuya, here, in front of her.

“Why are you here?” he asks.

The question could be turned on its head and the answer would be the same. “I… w-wanted to see you.” Saying it felt good. “To spend time with you.”

His head leans back. “Well.” The book is set down on the table to his side. “That can be arranged. Take a seat.”

Touko hadn’t spent enough time looking over the layout of the room, so there may have been another chair for her to sit in, but instead she opts for his lap. Apparently that’s what he wanted, because he smiles, something he’s directed at her few times before.

She adjusts slightly, pulling the excess of her skirt out from under her. Byakuya’s hand comes and wraps around her waist. Byakuya has touched her there once before, only to pull her out of the way of an oncoming cart, but his hand had not squeezed then, thumb stroking gently through her shirt. The small, affectionate touch is enough to turn her stiff posture to goo, and she pools happily against his chest.

Another hand runs through the underside of her hair, pulling her head close. Touko hears an inhale. “Hm. You smell nice,” he murmurs.

Touko’s heart tremors. She wasn’t actually sure if she’d showered today, but she can go with it. An involuntary smile grows on her lips, and she turns to face him. “W… what else?”

His hand unclasps from her hair and comes to rest on the curve of her neck. "You’re very bold, aren’t you? First, coming here, and then begging for attention.” His smile transforms into a smirk, the kind that filled her with haughty glee when directed at others and turned her into putty when directed at her. “Like a dog.”

“I don’t mind being your dog,” Touko replies instantly, like she’d been expecting the line. It would have been horribly embarrassing to listen to had there been anyone nearby to hear, but there weren’t. It was just the two of them.

Or, just one by herself.

He smirks. “I have no need for a pet.” A hand comes to cup her cheek. The dry warmth of his palm radiates against her skin. “What I want is you, Touko.”

Hearing her name in his voice for the first time, said so softly even with his authoritative edge, is almost too much. Her breath catches. Maybe it is too much. The muscles in her face contort against her will.

He kisses her. Warmth tingles in her lips, echoing down her spine. Instantly, she kisses back, her hands fidgeting to grasp at his hair and to hold the crook of his neck. Her lips part, and he delves deeper, kissing her just as intensely as she wants him to.

Her heart swells with emotion, with love and need and frustration and something black and heavy. She grasps at him tighter, and he does the same, and as he does her brain burns within her skull, fire behind her eyes. Every time he moves against her, her heart sinks deeper into her stomach.

Suddenly, he stops, withdrawing from her and hands falling from the back of her head to her shoulders, and then her lap. She’s breathing deeply through her mouth, and in contrast he seems completely unaffected. “You are crying.”

She is. The disappointment she feels is tiny compared to everything else that churns painfully in her chest. “Ev… everything feels so real,” she manages, hiding her face. “But you’re not.”

At such an obvious statement, Byakuya’s lips would have pressed together into a thin line, brows furrowing. But this one doesn’t. Without a note of judgment, “You knew that.”

She chokes out a sob. Byakuya sits there, staring, his affected confidence no longer there.

“H-hold me, please.”

He does as she says, arms wrapping around to hug her to him, just as tightly as she wishes. After a moment, he moves to rearrange her so her head can rest on his shoulder.

“I am a crude approximation of my real-world counterpart,” Byakuya tells her, speaking clearly while stroking her neck, “based both on local data and your own experiences, altered to your specifications.”

Local data must have been referring to the remnants incident.

He continues, “I can think and feel, but only within the confines of the program.”

Touko nudges herself deeper into his neck. He smells just like him. He looks just like him, feels just like him. He talks just like him, only Byakuya wouldn’t be comforting her like this.

“This was silly,” says Touko, her voice wet.

Sometimes, on better days, she thinks: she is good enough for Byakuya. She is the _only_ person who is good enough for him. No one came close to understanding him in the way she did. No one would ever want to, not when their eyes were on his money or on his fame or his intellect, just like how people wanted Touko for those things until they realized how rotten of a person she was. Only she would love him so wholly.

On other days, Touko knows that none of these things are true. She and Byakuya were not two halves of the same whole, but two people with independent wants and needs. His standards are high, but not so high that no one else might meet them. And while many people fail to understand Byakuya in the way she has come to, she could only ever know him completely by making false assumptions.

“It’s a waste of your potential to pin your worth to the judgment of a single person,” says Byakuya.

Touko’s face wrinkles. “I… I d-don’t do that.” Maybe a part of her had, or does, want Byakuya because he has the power to validate her, but there was more to him than that.

“You are also arrogant,” he continues, “for making that judgment for him. Only I can decide whether I find you worthwhile.”

The shifting of third and first person was mildly upsetting.

All is warm between the fire at her back and the natural heat radiating from the steady rise and fall of Byakuya’s chest. Touko’s own heartbeat gradually calms, and she’s able to relax in his arms. Whether or not she’s able to imagine that it’s Byakuya doing this to her changes from minute to minute. When she eventually drifts into sleep, she just as soon wakes up with a faint burn beneath her eyes and crusty residue on her cheeks.

 

* * *

 

 

It was just another day of work. In theory, what they do here is important - vital, even - but in practice, or at least in what concerned them on a day-to-day level, most of their time was spent on menial busywork. Byakuya never fails to see the bigger picture, but the days still easily blend together, with set patterns only rarely broken.

He smells her before he sees her.

“I made you tea, Byakuya-sama.”

Specifically, it was the rose-hip that he smelled. A shiver runs down Byakuya’s spine, and it’s followed by him cringing.

Byakuya often avoids eye contact when he’s working, but Touko notices this time that he doesn’t even answer her. The pause makes her nervous, even if, logically, she has no reason to be. “… Byakuya?” she repeats, this time without the honorific.

His eyes dart to her. “You don’t need to bring me tea.”

Her eyes widen. Absently, she begins picking at her lip, which Byakuya watches. “If it’s not to your taste…” she trails off, “b-but… I like making it for you.”

Heat scratches at his face. He tries to meet her eyes, but ultimately, he falters, and takes the tea. “Do what you want.”

 

* * *

 

 

A week passes before Byakuya tries again.

This time, more forethought was put into creating an ideal scenario. The lavish apartment is nowhere to be seen, and instead of the moon-lit backdrop, sunlight shines through many wall-spanning windows. A chair takes the place of the leather couch, and before him is a cloth-covered table with neatly arranged sets of menus, utensils, napkins, and glasses.

Not to mention the woman who sits across for him. He hadn’t specified an outfit for her, and again the super-computer provides - she wears a simple floral-patterned dress with a short jacket over top. It didn’t fit the quality of the restaurant, but it was something he remembered her wearing months ago.

That he remembered it well enough for the machine to draw from it was disconcerting. Aside from that, and more importantly, the building was filled with other, equally artificial people seated at tables of their own. He and Touko weren’t alone.

Touko, hanging her head and slouching slightly, takes a sip from her glass. “Th-this… tastes good,” she says.

“… It’s water.”

She rubs the back of her neck, fingers straining. “S-still…” A subtle blush accompanies a crooked smile. “Everything tastes better with you, Byakuya.”

Very cute. Byakuya wasn’t too concerned with the meal, and he wasn’t even sure whether they’d ordered yet in this scene. “I believe this situation to be more ideal for what I wish to achieve. Though the background noise could be considered a distraction, it discourages an unproductive train of thought. My only intent is to engage with you in an unclouded state of mind.”

Touko sits quietly, squeezing her lower lip between her finger and thumb, before suddenly she smirks. Her lips are tight, as if she’s holding in a giggle. “Y-you… are you thinking about when I got you off?”

Byakuya stills. “Don’t bring that up.”

Her smile grows, but she nods her head. “Anything you say, Byakuya-sama.”

He’s not satisfied with the way she says his name, but he doesn’t correct her. It was always informal of her to refer to him by anything other than his family name, and back then, during the Mutual Killings, it grated on his nerves each time. She was the first person to pay his first name as much respect as the name Togami called for, if not more.

“Why do you refer to me by my given name? No one else does.” Excluding only two people in his family, both for different reasons.

“O-oh…” She picks at her lip. “I g-guess I switched after what happened with Fuji… F-fuji…”

“After the second trial, yes,” Byakuya finishes for her.

Touko fidgets. “Do you not like it?”

“… It’s informal. I’ve told you as much.”

“Ah… but, uhm, I guess that’s why I did… do it. I want to be close to you, and calling you Togami feels distant. It d-doesn’t feel like you at all…”

Distance is what Byakuya prefers. The only people who have gotten close to him in his life were those who had the power over him to do so by way of imposition, and he has long since outpaced those people.

She continues, “When I think of Togami, I imagine some stuffy old business man. O-or, eheh, sometimes, an old hag, in case we ever…”

He looks at her expectantly.

Her lips twist into an impish smile, and she swallows thickly. “… get married.”

He wants to roll his eyes, but because it would be a conscious effort and not an automatic reaction, he doesn’t. Her dialogue sounded believable enough, but the simulacrum had no way of knowing what Touko really believed.

“I don’t see why you would want that. You’d gain nothing.”

She blinks. “Huh?”

Before the tragedy, marrying into the Togami family was a prestige worth the vast amount of effort and investment (and even humiliation) which preceded it. It was only natural, and the tradition of heirship was well established by Byakuya’s time. But things were different now. “The only thing of value that the Togami name carries is my genetic stock. The capital I’d amassed in my teen years, my vast inheritance, the conglomerate… You would gain none of it.”

Byakuya has every intention to rebuild his empire, but that has yet come to pass. At the moment, most of his energy and talent is spent on Future Foundation, which is in no way a profitable venture. As a famous author, Touko had the opportunity to marry into one of the many new families that rose to prominence in the post-despair era.

“N-no! You don’t get it!” seethes Touko, not using her inside voice. Her fingers hover over the sides of her head. “I never wanted any of that from you!”

Byakuya’s brows furrow.

“Maybe I… liked that you were educated, a-and princely, but I didn’t care about your privilege or your money.” Her hair is tangled in her fingers, and she’s looking at Byakuya’s plate rather than his eyes. “When I saw… when Enoshima told us what happened to your… I w-wasn’t di-disappointed, or anything like - I s-saw your reaction a-and I could only think about how h-horrified you looked, for the very first time -”

“I was not,” says Byakuya automatically, though the memory is fresh in his mind.

“It might have been selfish of me, but… it made me want to protect you. I’ve always dreamed of being kept safe by you, but seeing you like that - I would do anything to take your pain away.”

“That’s enough.” Nothing she was saying is accurate. He is not weak - no blow dealt to him could not be taken in stride, and nothing that sets him back could be undone through pity.

“It’s not -”

“I told you not to read my thoughts,” he cuts her off. “And - there’s nothing special about saying you would marry me.” He was an attractive man, something Touko was not alone in caring about. Her judgment meant nothing to Byakuya.

“But…” Her hands, which had been tugging at each other anxiously, slide up either arm to her elbows. “It’s special to me. I think about it a… I have it all planned out in my head.”

Byakuya does not ask that she elaborate.

"Our wedding…” she begins anyway, “It can be a simple affair, because money will be tight between us, but our love will make it count. O-of course, all of our _friends_ will be there, coworkers, but we can take turns vetoing anyone we don’t like off the invitation list. I already have my vows written out, b-but I can’t speak for yours… Ahah, and I just know that Naegi’s s-stupid boyfriend will be the one to catch the bouquet. Komaru would love that…”

The volume of Touko’s voice spikes and lowers erratically. No one in the restaurant looks their way.

“And later, when the o-official celebrations are over and we’re finally alone, you wont be able to keep your hands off me… t-too much time spent on pleasantries will have made you impatient, a-and you won’t even wait until I’m undressed to take me, flipping the skirt of my dress over my waist and hastily sheathing your olympian rod inside me…!”

She gasped between sentences, spitting out words too quickly for her breath to keep up.

“O-once your carnal lust has been satisfied, we’ll take our time, I’ll unbutton your shirt and take off your jacket and you’ll unwrap me from my gown, a-and I’ll kiss to life your big, pepperoni-like nipples -”

“ _Fukawa_ ,” he grinds out, his throat tight and his face red and hot. “We’re in a restaurant.”

“Ah… whah?” She catches herself, mouth hanging open with drool dripping out from the corners of her lips. Her eyes dart around the building. “O-oh, Byakuya, you didn’t… These people are just NPCs. The Neo-World Program doesn’t generate personalities unless you tell it to...”

Oh.

“Byakuya,” she groans unnecessarily, “I-I can have food brought in, if you were… I c-could even feed it to you while sitting on your -”

“Do that.”

“Ah - really?! You want me to -”

“No. I mean - not the food thing. Just. Sit on my lap.”

Touko doesn’t need to be told a third time. Shooting out of her seat, she lunges for him, nearly tipping over his chair before Byakuya leans forward to kiss her. Breathy gasps escape through the corners of her mouth as they fumble together, higher in pitch when Byakuya’s hands grasp at her sides.

Her own fingers run through his hair and jitter against his scalp. Byakuya likes it. It feels good to touch her, and it feels good to be touched by her. And - she groans when his hands drop below her hip - it feels good to see and hear her reaction. He likes that she could pull things from him he could never access on his own. Byakuya was hard and she was sitting on his lap with their chests pressed tight together and those two things were directly correlated.

And there would be no repercussions.

“Fukawa,” Byakuya parts, breathing. “Keep - keep talking,” he tells her as he dips her head back so he can latch on to her bobbing throat.

“A-ah, Byakuya-sama?!”

“What you like about me. Tell me more.”

“O-oh!” As Byakuya moves from the underside of her jaw to the slick line of her neck, Touko’s hands slide down the back of his head and to his shoulders, one clasping at the dip of his spine. “I… I love Byakuya-sama’s voice, h-how you talk, how you always know what to say and that you always mean it! I - I like -”

His body was burning from the inside. Sweaty hands, firm on her back, pull her forward as Byakuya’s lips mouth across her collar.

"I like that you’re smart, a-and strong, and how you’re not afraid to take charge and take action and take - j-just knowing that you’ll never accept yourself being sub-par at anything makes me want to be strong, too!”

When Byakuya’s lips reach her breasts, Touko is giddy to encourage him by wrapping her arms around his head and holding him tight to her chest. The cut of her dress was low enough that he could pull her breasts out, something which would irreparably stretch the fabric were this happening in any other scenario.

“B-byakuya-sama, darling, ahm - you give me so much hope and light and purpose. Even when we’re apart, just knowing that… just thinking about you is enough to comfort me and keep me going! I think about you so much, I - I love you, Byakuya-sama, so, so, so, so -”

Byakuya’s hands wrap tight around her waist, and with a shrill squeak Touko is lifted into the air and pressed with her back flat onto the dinner table. Glasses fall and shatter against the floor. “Fukawa,” Byakuya groans, grinding against her with one hand planted at her side, “I want -”

Noises somewhere between laughter and sobbing spill from her throat and impossibly wide, drooling smile. “Darling!” She’s even faster than he is, tugging up the skirt of her dress and arching her back so it can be pulled over her waist. She’s also hard, apparently, which Byakuya might have noticed at some point. A bulge sticks out from her red-lace underwear (which, what the hell, is an article of clothing Byakuya also remembers).

Her face is impossibly red, and Byakuya assumes based on the heat in his own cheeks that he’s much the same. Quivering breaths match the rise and fall of her chest as she stares at him with so much love and lust and nervous anticipation. Byakuya has seen her be something like this before, so many times, but not at this range and not to this extent, and never because of something he _chose_ to do to her. With her.

Throat tight, he swallows, and leans forward so far that he’s looming over her entire body. There are things that he could, and maybe should tell her - like that she _is_ strong, and not because she’s ruthless and discards things that might hold her back but because she holds on to the people she loves. And that she is smart, in ways that Byakuya could never match. Not everything could categorized in grounded terms of worth, but she is, objectively, valuable.

He doesn’t, though, and instead kisses her. It’s monstrous to him how eagerly she melts, and even if Byakuya can’t know if it’s because she’s a caricature of her real-world counterpart, he wants to think it isn’t. Her underwear is pulled up to her knees and just as quickly she begins to stretch herself with her fingers. Little noses are sealed between their lips.

Little noises become louder ones when the hand Byakuya has on Touko’s waist is used to grasp her naked member, previously twitching against her stomach. Her reaction makes Byakuya pull away from her lips.

“Are -” he catches his breath. “Is this okay?”

Her face doesn’t look displeased. “It’s… you c-can,” she nods fervently. “Please, Byakuya-sama.”

Byakuya tries stroking. Touko’s fervent nodding doesn’t stop, and her eyes droop into slits, fluttering at the peak of each pump. Byakuya is slow, testing, but his heart is pounding in his chest as he watches her. Writhing is too much, but every part of her is tensing and and shifting and moving and arcing to the movements of his hand.

Byakuya’s mouth is painfully dry. Now that he thinks of it, the heat might partially be explained by his clothes. He can’t be bothered with his jacket, but he takes a hand off her thigh to rip away his tie and undo the buttons of his dress shirt. It feels as if a gust of heat escapes with each one successfully fumbled out of its slot.

Byakuya doesn’t look away, nor does he stop fisting her cock.

With a sudden moan, her knees press together desperately, trapping both his hand and her own wrists between her thighs. He tries running his thumb over the soft flesh of her head, and she trembles more, ankles locking together. Rather than the gradual, laborious motions she’d been working herself open with earlier, Byakuya watches her fingers hammer into her entrance.

Something heavy and tight twists in his chest, below his heart above his stomach. It reminds him of disgust, but it’s a feeling that coincides with him wanting to kiss her, and to hold her and and to please her and to very much be where her fingers currently are.

The erratic pressure on his wrist becomes crushing. Touko’s brows knit together, her lips press tight, and - a sharp hiss - sticky, liquid heat drips from Byakuya’s palm, sparse and mostly translucent. Her chest doesn’t stop rising and falling, but the rest of her body seems to just droop, like one long, encompassing exhale. Her legs fall open.

Touko laughs weakly. “Buh…” she tries to catch her breath. “B-byakuya… you just got me off in public…” The smile on her lips reaches her eyes. “W-were you trying to get -”

“— Get even,” Byakuya finishes for her. “No. I did it because I wanted to.”

There was no reason why he’d feel the need to pay a debt to a computer program. There was a reason for him to make use of said computer program, even if it was a bad one, but logically, Byakuya gained nothing by being dishonest with himself.

After wiping off his hand, Byakuya’s pants are unbuttoned, unzipped, and shimmied down and off his legs. As he moves on to his jacket, Touko does the same, with only slightly more difficulty due to her position. The vulgarity of the scene isn’t lost on Byakuya at all - the menus are still on the table, scattered underneath Touko’s back, and the restaurant is not completely silent - but he will be mortified in retrospect later.

Byakuya takes his cock in his hand and Touko, biting her lip and in just as much of a hurry, reaches down between her legs to help guide him. Air hisses through his teeth when his sensitive head meets her entrance, and after placing a hand around her thigh for leverage he begins to push into her.

She’s still very tight, and there’s no forcing it. Long, silent breaths ease in and out through her parted lips, occasionally rising to a hiss as she does her best to relax. Every inch deeper he sinks takes more effort on Byakuya’s part not to cry out as hot pressure weighs on him from every angle.

“Eh… ehehe…” Noises bubble in Touko’s throat as she stares up at him from beneath. “W-we’re joined now, darling.”

He can’t help but gasp when she gently clenches around him. “Sh-shut up.”

A gooey smile stretches on her lips as her head cranes back. The hand planted on her thigh shifts to lift her knee over his shoulder, and she’s leaned onto her side. The new angle allows Byakuya to fully bury himself inside her. There’s only a sliver of flesh to be seen between them.

There’s just as much friction as he draws back. Byakuya has experimented with his body only a handful of times, and even counting his previous foray into the machine - being inside her is so much _more_. It’s overwhelming. Every other moment he has to stop to keep himself from falling apart.

Touko mumbles, “I-I’ve been w-waiting for this for so… y-you know, I think about you every time I -”

Byakuya can’t handle that mental image at the moment. “Not now, Touko…!”

“Ah! Y-you said -”

He thrusts into her. “Gh…” Driving into her, Byakuya does his best to push it from his thoughts, but - everything is her. Everything he feels is her, everything he wants is her. Every inch draws shudders from him, but he pushes through them.

Byakuya hisses. “I’m close,” he warns, clenching his teeth.

“Come inside me!” cries Touko. “Impregnate my colon!”

“What?” he doesn’t stop.

Her passage tightens as Touko clamps down on him, forcing him to buckle. Byakuya’s mouth stretches open in an soundless moan. Sweet relief washes over him in waves as he finally erupts. Every part of him shakes, skin tingling all over.

“— Touko -” he manages. Her arms wrap around his neck, and he’s pulled down to lay against her chest, still inside her and too still too sensitive to draw out. Both their hearts beat wildly, but it’s Byakuya who has to catch his breath while Touko is gathered enough to hum softly, her giddy satisfaction frequently cracking through the pitch of her voic.

Resting on top of her as the moment begins to pass, Byakuya assumes that this is where the simulation ends. But it keeps going - until he softens, and he begins to again hear the repetitive environmental noise of the restaurant around them once again in stark clarity.

Tortuously, Byakuya is made to realize the full extent of what he’s done. Several minutes pass, at some point during which one of Touko’s hands come to rub his back. This, too, he is made to contemplate.

 

* * *

 

 

The cacophony of the office workspace assaults Touko from every angle, wearing on both her patience and her concentration, both of which being needed to keep the stack of reports locked tight in her arms to prevent any stray papers from slipping free. Grinding her teeth, she shuffles along the walkway around the perimeter of the room, trying her best to block out the noise.

As hard a worker as Touko was - something that her superiors continued to ignore - she wishes badly to be given a break. Ten minutes to rest, maybe to eat. Somewhere quiet. Instead, she was forced to work grueling twenty-five hour days, week after week. It was exhausting.

As she’s lost in thought, a sudden force slams against her, knocking her on her butt and causing her papers to scatter through the air dramatically, falling to the floor in complete disarray.

Touko seethes, glaring at the person who walked into her as she tries to push herself up. "Hey, w-watch where you’re going! N-now I have to pick all of this up!”

“It’s not my fault! You were already -” the woman began to bark back before stopping herself. She’s sporty-looking, Touko notices, with a ponytail and wearing hair clip, as well as having a completely flat chest. “Oh, hey, you’re the one he asked for!”

Touko blinks. “Huh?”

“Is your pager off? You’re already late, so there’s no time to explain. You need to get to floor forty-four!”

Touko’s eyes go wide, and her heart stammers. “Y-you mean… he -" she shakes her head. “Agh, you’re just t-trying to get me fired b-by wasting my time!”

“Hey, even if you’re rude, I would _never_ make someone put up with _that_ jerk,” she huffs.

Touko could screech at her for calling him that, but the consequences of her not lying is too great. Not breaking eye contact, Touko pulls out her pager to find that it is, indeed, off. A moment after turning it on, three missed messages bleep at her.

Immediately, she sprints off, leaving both the woman and her scattered reports in the dust. Once she reaches the elevator, it takes a full two minutes to reach her current floor, during which her heart pounds in her chest and anxious doubts swirl in her head. While she waits, she fumbles with her pager and reads out the missed messages.

 

_The project is finished. I need you to finalize things._

_If you’re not here soon, you won’t get your reward._

_Disregard that last message. It was inappropriate._

 

Touko swallows, holding the tiny digital letters to her chest. Stepping into the elevator, the entire city is at once in front and beneath her beyond the thin glass pane that separates her from the outside world. Each second the elevator climbs higher the vast array of skyscrapers and roads become smaller, less significant. Despite Touko’s fear of heights, the view doesn’t upset her, and when she closes her eyes and focuses on calming her breath, it’s not because of fear.

Once she’s at the top, Touko makes her way to the designated office. And then she gets lost, not having anyone around to show her the way, but once she finds it, she looks up at the engraved golden plaque over the door and walks in.

The office, so much wider and more open than the cubicles and dreary rooms she was used to, is cast in sunlight which spans the entire room, washing in from the massive window which encompasses the wall behind the office's centerpiece. Just like in the previous scene, she’s met with a chair facing away from her, towards the view of the sky.

“That wouldn’t happen to be my intern, would it?”

 _My intern_ … Touko shudders. "I-I’m sorry I didn’t knock, ah, sir…!”

“Sir…” The man in the chair exhales a dry chuckle. “Out there, to all of those lowlife drones, I’ll always be sir. But in here, right now -” the chair slowly spins to reveal the figure behind it - “It is just me and you, Touko.”

If the shudder that runs through Touko at that moment bothers Byakuya at all, he doesn’t show it. She loved the effortlessly smooth tone of his voice, how he speaks her name not with the intonation of power, but with familiarity. “Y… I understand, Byakuya-sama!”

His lips stretch into a small smile. “Come, then. Tell me about your day.”

Oh, god, she’d been waiting for this. After scampering up the room towards him, she plops herself down on his lap. With a sigh, “Everything about this w-week has been shitty… I’m not qualified to be doing p-people work, a-and they know that, b-but I keep getting asked to deal with complaints…”

Byakuya places a hand on her side. Touko wriggles closer until she’s comfortable.

“They always yell at me… If I st-stutter in front of them, I have to repeat myself, but then I’m told to hurry up, a-and I can’t get angry either but when I have to repeat myself s-six times I get mad and I st-stutter even more, a-and they have the gall to ask for someone else when o-obviously they would have in the first place if they could!”

She’s never actually had to work at Future Foundation as an intern, but because the organization is perpetually understaffed, everyone is made to deal with work they’re not trained for at some point. As far as Touko has gathered, Byakuya wasn’t much better in this area than her.

Byakuya strokes her lower back. “Hm,” is all he says.

Touko releases a sigh. “It… this w-week hasn’t been all bad,” she trails off. Mentioning the particular highlight of this last week wouldn’t make much sense in this context, but it does occupy her mind.

Byakuya smiles. In a low voice, “You’ve been working hard,” he says.

“I —” Touko shivers. “I d-do what I have to… I’m going to keep doing it, even if it’s hard sometimes. I… I know I’m capable.”

“You are capable,” he assures her. He adjusts in his seat, leaning away to better face her. “And it would be impertinent of me to allow good behavior to go unrewarded.”

Touko blinks. After a moment, her lips creep into a smile. “A-ah, like… — w-what do you have in mind?”

In response, she feels his knuckles ghost over her collar. A surprised shudder makes her teeth clatter.

“That depends. We’ll see what your body would like.” Byakuya’s hand glides to cup the back of her head, and she’s pulled into a soft, playful kiss.

Touko can already feel the stress of her job sink to the back of her mind. The work week isn’t over yet, dear god, but even her dread over returning to work tomorrow after the stress she’d went through earlier that day eases away like a candle into globules of hot wax. This is a place where her her worries disappear - Byakuya’s arms, that is, even in this form. No number of embarrassingly corny cliches being uttered would diminish that.

It feels good - right, even - to be here. To be skin under his warm hands. The part of her that had fantasized and dreamed of this happening - who was so eager to be here - is accosted by the equally real part of her who has never felt anything like this. But where she is nervous, he guides her, and where she feels bubbling excitement and raw need, he indulges. Anything can be made easy when framed within the bounds of a command, but it’s something only ever done for her sake.

She lets him undress her at first, but as deft as his fingers are with the buttons of her shirt, the drawn out pace of it has her frustrated within moments, and she soon hurries to help him along. Byakuya’s hand slides down her thigh, and it’s hard not to cringe when she feels his fingers glide over her scars (a part of her wishes the program had done away with them, though that would bring its own kind of angst). But the expression on his face doesn’t change, nor does his hand still for even a moment.

She feels the dry warmth of his hand caress her back, bare of any clothes and exposed to the cool air. She hides her face against the crook of Byakuya’s neck, weak noises disappearing into the fabric of his suit (admittedly more luxurious than what was actually afforded him). Aided by rubbed-warm lubricant, Byakuya’s fingers slide inside her, at once gradually easing her open and teasing at the bundle of nerves inside her. The warm breaths that brush against Touko’s ear feel as if in tandem with the building pressure beneath her stomach.

Touko could melt against him. What lies between her legs is no longer an organ, just a twitching bundle of flesh burning with hot tension.

“Touko,” Byakuya mutters, smiling, before kissing the exposed flesh of her neck. Her head swims. “You’re special to me. Very special.”

“B-byakuya-sama?”

“It’s right that you know,” he tells her. The chair swivels, and Touko feels the sun on her back - she turns her head as far as she can, in Byakuya’s embrace, and sees not just the sky, but the entire city past the window behind her. “I can’t imagine my life without you, not anymore. You belong to me.”

She’s pulled down onto his cock. She makes a silent noise - breath catching in her throat as he sinks into her. Inch by inch, he fills her completely. It feels as if a deep itch is being scratched, something she could never have reached with her own efforts. As she strains, achingly hard, Byakuya finally touches her, wrapping his fingers around her member and brushing his thumb over her sensitive head. The surge of pleasure shoots her back straight, and she whines, pitifully.

Her knees meet leather as she’s fully seated on his cock. She sputters, half-formed words slipping from her lips and leaving drool dripping down her chin, only to finally settle on his name. Byakuya looks up at her from below, pleased with himself and self-assured in just the right way. The shallow pumping of his fist has her thighs perpetually tensing and untensing, hot tension running through her limbs like blood through her veins.

But she wants more. The look on Byakuya’s face falters slightly when Touko raises her hips, slowly withdrawing - before a sharp hiss is ripped from his lips as she snaps back down.

The open line of his mouth curves into a slight grin, and he settles a hand on her hip. Touko’s heart swells, her own lips pulling into an unashamed smile she wouldn’t be able to squash had she the need to. She does it again - and again, and again, riding him and building as steady a rhythm as her uneasy muscles could manage. It wasn’t perfect - but she gets to see every reaction of his play out on his face. Every grunt and groan, the scratchy red of his cheeks and the bobbing of his throat serves to make her buzz with satisfaction.

Occasionally, he brushes against something deep inside her, and Touko’s rhythm is be broken by a spike of pleasure. From below, Byakuya rolls his hips into each descent, and combined with a guiding grip on her hips, he’s soon hitting the same spot each time. The sudden spikes of pleasure become a torrent, wave after wave crashing into her.

“P-please…” she says, breathy from exertion. She feels a strain in her calves. “S-say it again.”

A breath escapes through his lips as they split into a smile. “You belong to me.”

Her frail heart aches. She swallows. “A-and…”

He pulls her head down into his chest, placing her ear before his lips. Her heart skips a beat, and he doesn’t stop pumping into her. “It’s not just that. Only you have ever made me feel this way. This sensation of ‘want’… It was unfamiliar to me until you.”

Like something out of her earliest novels, dripping with unpolished novice. But she feels it. She believes it, like the overwhelming heat surging through her body, she believes it.

A series of rapid thrusts push her over the edge, crying out as she crumbles against him. She drips onto the fine coat of his suit, an article of clothing which eventually disappears, along with everything else he wears before he then takes her again atop the pillowy wood of his desk or against the cloud-like glass of the window pane.

When she awakes from the simulation, Touko is unable to clearly discern whether she feels refreshed or exhausted, or the degree to which either extends from physical to mental.

 

* * *

 

 

The lack of contingency for missing keys in this building was a headache in progress. There was one key to the lock on the printer room door (why it did not make use of their keycards is a mystery to Byakuya, just as the reason why a printer needed to be kept under such security to begin with is), and Byakuya had last lent it to Makoto - who, upon investigation, Byakuya discovered had then gone onto lend it to Hagakure, who lent it to an intern, who lent it to another, and the exchange went on until it supposedly landed in the hands of…

“Fukawa. There you are.”

She jumps out of her skin in surprise, before quickly turning around like she’d been caught in the middle of something. “B-byakuya-sama?! You’ve been looking for me?”

It had been some time since they’d last met outside of meetings. This wasn’t an issue, given that they’re under no obligation to keep in contact, but it was peculiar, considering that they work for the same organization in the same building.

“Yes. For some time now.”

Byakuya steps closer, and the beating of Touko’s heart begins to feel like a constant tremor. Her face burns underneath her skin. It’s hard to meet his eyes, especially as he gets closer.

He came looking like he had something to say to her, but now that he’s in front of her, he stops - a slight gap between his lips, mouth hanging open. Touko finally looks away, glancing at her feet.

“Are you wearing perfume?”

“Per —” Touko sucks in a breath. “N-no, it’s my shampoo…”

A pause.

“I knew that. I was wondering if it suited you.”

Touko doesn’t know what to say to that.

Another moment of silence.

Finally, Byakuya swallows. “I need your key. To the printer room.”

“O-oh,” Touko says, remembering that she’d taken it at some point. She fishes it out and hands it to him without looking up.

He leaves.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s not long before Byakuya returns, once again, to the pod chamber. The sight still fails to welcome him - not that it was ever meant to - and instead, entering the dimly-lit room and maneuvering over stray chords with each step gives the impression of making an intrusion.

Unaware to him, as he climbs in and lies his head, is that one of the pods is already in use.

Both Touko and Byakuya find themselves in a small, cramped apartment, with thin gaps left in between each piece of furniture. There are only two sources of light in the room, aside from the boxy television, currently turned off - the light shining from outside a small window on the far side of the apartment, quickly turning to dusk, and a tall lamp near the room’s only bed.

Some time has passed since Touko’s last visit, but her motivation to come was much the same. She had never meant to make this a routine, but now that the Neo World Program is no longer merely a curiosity, it’s a frighteningly easy decision to come here at the end of a hard day. Like pouring a glass of wine before bed.

“Not very spacious,” Byakuya says, as he undoes his tie.

“Y-yeah,” Touko replies, looking up at him. The lamp light casts the edges of his face in hard edges. It’s hard not to notice that he has a more composed, guarded air about him.

To Byakuya, the room gives a very different impression than the ones he’s seen the Neo World Program previously produce. It was simple enough to remove himself from what was happening when it was an abstracted get-away, or a restaurant - in those cases, it was merely a hypothetical, even impossible course of action. But being in this crummy apartment was almost like having Touko in his own home.

“Fukawa,” he says. It takes a moment for Touko to realize that it’s strange for him to be using her surname. “Come here.”

That makes her chest warm, though not without a nervous edge. She does as he asks, scooting down the short length of the couch towards his end.

He stares at her, eyes glazing over her body, from her face to her chest to her legs, folded under her. The scrutiny makes Touko flush, and she quickly averts her eyes - to the line of Byakuya’s neck, leading down to his chest.

She has the urge to reach for the buttons of his shirt, but that line of thought is interrupted by the feeling of Byakuya’s hand on the sensitive back of her neck. It trails upward to her hair, before he comes to loosely hold her braid between his finger and thumb.

“B-byakuya-sama?” she gasps.

He looks back at her. His face is drawn straight, but the look he gives her is not exactly passive. “Do you mind?” he asks.

Very quickly, she shakes her head ‘no’.

Byakuya trails down to the end of her long braid, finding her tie and pulling it loose. Her hair begins to unwind, but only slightly - Byakuya helps it along by running his fingers through her hair and gently coaxing it to unravel, feeling the pleasant sensation of her soft hair on his skin as he does so.

The brief touches of his hand against Touko’s skin has her mind buzzing. She wants to rest her head against his chest and melt, but she feels it would be inappropriate, somehow, in this moment.

Instead, it’s Byakuya who boldly leans forward and presses his head against hers. Touko makes a surprised gasp, mind running blank, while Byakuya sucks in a breath.

It’s the same scent. Maybe stronger? “You smell nice,” Byakuya sighs.

After a choked swallow, Touko giggles. “Ehehe, B-byakuya-sama…” This is a familiar scene, but she doesn’t mind the line being repeated.

He continues to comb his hand through her hair languidly, and Touko comes to place a hand against his chest, leaning into him. The feeling is soothing, but the beating of her heart is anything but calm.

Byakuya hums. On his end, coming here and doing this is nothing but an indulgence. After what happened last time, he had it in mind to never return to this virtual reality, realizing its effect on him - but, when the urge arose, he caved.

On his previous attempts, his intent was to unravel the nature of his feelings - his ‘issue’. What has changed, now, is that he knows there is nothing for him to solve here. His motivation is shamefully clear to him, uncovered from dirt and filth.

Knowing didn’t make it alright. This was pathetic of him, resorting to this machine.

He gently cups her warm, soft cheek. She coos, smiling.

“I want to kiss you now,” he says.

Her eyes flutters open, and she giggles again, feet shifting as she wriggles in her position. “P-please do,” she says.

And he does. She cranes her neck to meet his lips, contagious warmth spreading between them. Giddiness bubbles in Touko’s chest, rising into her throat, while all of Byakuya’s thoughts and apprehensions fade, lingering only as vapor.

Touko knows, in her mind, that this is wrong of her. This isn’t real, and it certainly isn’t a replacement for that which was. Rather, this is  _easy_ , but the ease of it is part of what unsettles her.

Touko presses against his chest and, taking the hint, Byakuya allows himself to be pushed down onto his back, looking up at Touko as she sits herself on his thighs. Seeing Byakuya beneath her, willing and with his cheeks dusted red makes Touko’s lips stretch into a wide, pleased smile that reaches her eyes. Byakuya feels a strain in his trousers beneath his belt.

Leaning down, Touko picks at the buttons of Byakuya’s dress shirt, revealing his chest bit by bit. Smooth skin over lean muscle, warm under Touko’s hands, chest rising and falling in time with his breath, open before her.

Her fingers fan out, gliding over his abdomen, his ribs, his pectorals, thumb brushing lightly over his nipples. Small gasps work their out of Byakuya’s throat, buzzing at the attention.

“Y-you’re so handsome, Byakuya-sama…”

He swallows thickly. “Hm,” is all he says.

Touko looks up to see his face. She’s met with blue eyes, dimmed by the room’s lack of light yet still sharp and piercing.

Placing one hand at his side and one on his chest to support herself, she dips down, eyes lidding as she reaches out to draw her tongue over his nipple.

Byakuya sucks in a sharp breath. He rolls his head back, eyes flitting to the blank ceiling as he feels Touko’s attentions to his body. Warm, wet pressure circles the bud of his nipple, while a finger comes to tweak the other. The budding heat he feels swimming in his chest makes him shift and squirm, cock twitching. “Fukawa,” he murmurs.

Touko pauses, for a moment silent, puffs of air still rolling over Byakuya’s chest. Then, speaking up: “Y-you… you can… y-you can use my first name,” she manages to get out.

The timidness with which she says it comes across in her voice. She’s heard him speak it before, by now, but she’s never had to ask for it.

Byakuya’s lips press together. “I…” He reaches a hand to his face, pointlessly correcting his glasses. “I suppose… we’re past that point. So it’s appropriate,” he says.

Yet his throat is still tight. Reaching down, he cups Touko’s cheeks - her large, slate eyes shoot to his, and it occurs to her as strange that it’s such an ordeal for him. But, seeing herself reflected in his eyes with so much effort, her breath catches in her throat.

Byakuya wets his lip. “…Touko,” he says.

The sound of her name makes her chest fill with gooey warmth. “Byakuya-sama…”

Byakuya feels oddly light, like an invisible weight has been lifted. Consciously referring to someone in this way was… intimate. But rather than making him feel vulnerable, he felt free.

He swallows. “Simply Byakuya will do.”

She bites her lip, the lines of her mouth stretching into a tight smile. As she leans further down until her head hovers above his, her wild hair comes to encase them both like a curtain. “Buh… B-byakuya… Haaa…”

A strained sigh eases through Byakuya’s lips. He preferred the sound of that. Not Togami, not Byakuya-sama. Just Byakuya.

“T…” He sucks in a breath. “Touko,” he says again, before pulling her down into a kiss.

Electric tingles skitter under Touko’s skin. One of Byakuya’s hand hurries to grasp at her chest, small sounds peaking out from the back of her throat and sealed between their lips as his fingers roam and squeeze her breast. A pulse strikes at her crotch, and wanting to feel him closer, she begins fumbling with the buttons of her shirt until her dress shirt falls open.

In a rush, Byakuya grunts, and tips them both over. Touko squeaks as their lips part and she’s pinned on her back beneath him. His mind swimming, Byakuya lifts Touko’s bra up to her collar and latches one to one of her breasts, sealing his lips around her nipple and swirling his tongue around her bud.

Touko whines, squirming as her back arcs, one hand reaching to tangle in Byakuya’s hair and another to grasp her unattended breast.

Raw energy courses through Byakuya’s body. With a free hand, he reaches down to Touko’s knee before sliding up her skirt, skidding along her thigh until he’s palming her crotch. Touko gasps - “Byakuya!” - and her knees click together instinctively.

A slow, firm grind of his palm, before Byakuya pulls back - and then, with both hands, he tugs down her skirt to her knees before fishing her member out of her panties and grasping her in his fist.

“Nnngh,” she groans, face drawing tight and body tensing. She tightens her grip on his hair, and he merely grunts, lips still wrapped around her breast as he pumps her in his hand. Everything between them moves fast, moments slurring together. To everything Byakuya does, Touko reacts in ten different ways, from the creening of her voice to the calling of his name to the flinching of her limbs. Byakuya doesn’t ponder how real it feels - or how it shouldn’t. His heart pounds out of his chest, mind swamped by hot arousal.

Touko feels Byakuya’s mouth draw away from her chest, exposing her saliva-ridden breast to the cold air. Her hand falls from his head, and he comes to loom over her, hand still stroking her hardness and bringing her closer and closer to her peak.

For a moment, he only stares - flickering from her eyes to her lips to her slick forehead, his own face incostruable as she’s exposed to her core. Then, his lips, lightly parted, stretch into a smile. His brows knit together, his eyes crinkle slightly, and the way he looks at her is like nothing she’s ever seen, neither outside the illusionary confines of the machine nor within it.

Her chest tightens - at once heavy and dark and bubbly with elation.

Fingers struggle against the couch as Byakuya brings Touko over the edge, her vision going white as she drips into his fist and onto her stomach. “H-haaa…!”

Byakuya’s chest heaves uneven breaths. He feels… pleased. Not dirty. The lingering wrongness intrinsic to this activity sits only in the back of his mind, far away from what he experiences in the moment - Touko’s face, flushed with heat, soft lips lightly parted, her forehead dabbed with sweat.

“Byakuya…” Touko sighs.

He leans down and kisses her, capturing her trembling lips against his own.

When they part, Touko is frowning.

“I…” she looks away, to the drab cushion at her side. “I wish this was real.”

Byakuya’s smile fades. He doesn’t know what to make of that.

“You wish?”

This place is like a release valve. It isn’t like her fantasies, or her novels, used to comfort herself when things were hard - it’s a relief, to come here and to see him, to be temporarily loved by him, but she always leaves emptier than before. The more of him she sees here, the more unattainable he seems in the real world.

“I guess… it’s not quite that,” she continues, “You m-mean everything to me. I love you, a-and you make me feel whole, even though we’re not together.” She swallows a breath. “And... I want to be by your side, but coming here isn’t making my happier. I thought it might be an escape… b-but it’s just making me feel worse.”

None of this registers with Byakuya. His brows knit together, and after a moment of silence, he sits up. “What do you mean _you_ came here?”

Touko looks up at him. The slight relief she felt at having expressed her feelings turns to confusion. She lifts herself onto her elbows. “I… to the Neo-World Program?”

“I _know_ I’m in the Neo-World Program,” Byakuya begins, before stopping himself. He stares at her.

Touko stares back in disbelief.

Byakuya considers the possibility that Touko is making up nonsense on purpose only because of the alternative. The program has never hidden its unreality from him before.

“H-hey…!” Touko gnashes her teeth together. “J-just because I said ‘I wish’ d-doesn’t mean I want you to pretend! I don’t need to be lied to! I hate lies!”

Byakuya frowns. “I’m not some half-baked fantasy,” he replies, before remembering why he came here. He glances at his hand. His stomach does a flip. “I came to the pod room at 8:42.”

Touko worries her lip. She didn’t check what time it was when she got to the room, but she knows she left for the Neo-World Program half-past eight.

“I-I… suppose if…”

They have the same thought at once. The machine was, after all, originally intended for multiple users.

“W-why, though?!” It didn’t make sense to Touko for Byakuya to come here to see her. It was always Touko who sought out Byakuya. “Why would Byakuya… y-you…?”

His chest tightens. Why indeed. Byakuya hadn’t anticipated being confronted on his choice to come here - and if someone were to confront him, Byakuya’s would sooner expect it to be Kyouko, asking why he’d used a state-of-the-art super-computer for a purpose so perverse, not the object of his inquiries herself.

“It… was an experiment. I wanted to speak to you about things without fear of ramifications.”

Touko bites her thumb. “Y-you… you didn’t have that much to say earlier…”

"Well." Byakuya averts his eyes. “It was like that the first time.”

She stills for a moment, before her eyes widen. “F-first time?! Y-you’ve been… coming…”

Byakuya. Coming here. Using the Neo-World Program. To see her.

"Fukawa.”

Touko winces.

Byakuya does his best to keep his face blank, but the worrying of his brow betrays his anxiety. “Even now, there are things about myself that I am discovering. I am still… learning. In the past, my deeply-held beliefs about the supposed natural way of things would have lead me to dismiss these discoveries as weaknesses, and to suppress them as such.”

But this is no longer an option for him. The flaws in his way of thinking which had, since birth, served and protected him, were laid bare during the Mutual Killings through failure and humiliation.

Byakuya runs a hand through his hair. “When I realized that you meant — mean — something to me, I decided I need an outlet. A way to explore the nature of that attachment. Meeting a version of you within this computer was a way of doing this without revealing my vulnerability.”

 _A negation of risk._ In reality, it was cowardice.

"I came to learn that, in this place, without being constrained by weakness and vulnerability, I found you… enjoyable.” The word choice tastes wrong in his mouth, but he doesn’t correct it. “But just as well, I learned that these constraints are kept in place by no one other than myself.”

But was this not itself weakness? To be afraid of his own feelings? To shun the attachment he wants for himself? For him to make it something to be indulged in secret, in this proverbial dark corner... was a personal failing.

Touko leans forward and wraps her arms around his chest. Blindsided, Byakuya stills completely.

“B-byakuya, I… understand,” she half-mumbles, her voice wet. “I know how you feel. A-and… I don’t think you’re weak…!”

People always took Byakuya at face value. Seeing him just as someone who was cruel, or someone who was smart - or, at worst, someone who _used_ to be stupidly rich and now is not. Touko knows that this impression isn’t an accident - Byakuya _wants_ to be seen as stoic, intelligent, ruthless. But, unbeknownst even to him, there is much more to Byakuya than the exterior he chooses for himself.

“I came here because it was easier, too, and —” she chokes on a gasp, having to force herself to swallow to continue. “It doesn’t matter whether you’re strong or weak. It’s okay sometimes to just be… you. — Just yourself, no matter what that version of you is, o-or what you struggle with, it's... okay. To be that.”

Byakuya frowns. He feels a burning behind his eyes. "It's not that simple."

Touko shakes her head, effectively wiping her face against his shoulder. "A lot of things are h-hard, and you need to be strong to deal with everything life throws you. There have been so, s-so many things I've had to... a-and if I hadn't been..." she sucks in a breath. "But not everything is like that...! Not everything is a t-test, or survival, or..."

"Touko."

She's pulled off of him, a hand on her head making her face him. Her face is contorted tight, hot tears rolling down her cheeks and a bit of snot peaking out from one of her nostrils. 

Byakuya frowns, his brows knit tightly. "... Stop crying."

"I-I'm sorry..." Touko sniffs. "I can't..."

He pulls her into a kiss. Touko groans against his lips, and she leans into it, wrapping her arms around his neck. Byakuya feels the wetness of her tears as his thumb draws over her face.

The older Byakuya becomes, the more of his life he realizes has been laid out for him. He once thought himself a god-like entity for becoming heir to the Togami Conglomerate where his siblings failed, but it was the competition which set in stone the terms of worth which he would be made to adhere, not himself. Even now, as an adult, and having for years outlived the conglomerate itself, he is compelled to mold himself to the values proclaimed by a mere name - six letters, two characters, eleven strokes of a pen. 

Had he truly made reality the future he saw for himself, back then, made the Conglomerate's already unrivaled influence reach new heights of power and control, he would only be doing so in accordance with every person in his place before him.

But this is something he's chosen for himself.

"I love you, Touko."

 Sometime later, the simulation ends, and they both awake from their pods. It's unclear to them both where they will go from here, or how their inappropriate pod-sex will be contextualized. But Byakuya knows what it is he wants, and just as well, Touko knows it, too.


End file.
